That crazy thing they call love
by distrahere
Summary: Sam and Tom, you all know the story. This is just some ramble that popped into my head when I was supposed to be writing something else.
1. 1

**That crazy thing they call love.**

I loved Sam/Tom until their relationship provided Dylan with an excuse to leave and that made me sad, but there was something about that scene in Broken Heart Syndrome that made me smile despite the tears that were rolling slowly down my face because of Nick and Yvonne and Zoe and I wrote this. I might continue it if the mood takes me, I've been struggling with a chapter in my main fanfiction and my creativity seems to be procrastinating too. Please comment, this is the first "Tam" (still think that they should be renamed as a sort of mixture between their surnames that makes 'knickers' but whatever please kick me if I ramble like this for much longer) that I've ever written and I'd like to know if you think I've got their characters right. Thanks for reading, as ever, E.

* * *

Neither Tom nor Sam had much experience with "love" as they grew up. Tom had a pushy father and although he was sure that his dad loved the idea of his son, he never really felt that his dad knew, or wanted to know, the person that Tom grew up to be. And Sam had an absent father who loved his other family much more often than he loved his daughter, and a mother who only really loved her if she nicked a bottle of vodka for her on the way home from school. But neither of them let themselves dwell on this, they had accepted that love wasn't always guaranteed a long time ago.

It wasn't as if they were both amateurs when it came to this much aforementioned concept. Sam had found a kind of love with Dylan and even though it had faded over long tours in Afghanistan and through arguments and sustained silences. And for a while she gave up on the idea of loving someone again, perhaps some part of her was left in that marriage, back with Dylan. Safe, dependable Dylan. And she didn't get that part back until she took that job at Holby City Emergency Department. To feel safe again to reconcile herself with her (ex)husband and to meet Tom.

And Tom had often thought he had found love through the string of girlfriends he had sustained through college, university right up until the age of 30 when he realised that he wasn't getting any closer to this mysterious thing that everyone talked about so much. But he knew what love wasn't. And then he met Sam.

And they hadn't thought much of each other when they met. There were no fireworks, electric touches or sudden realisations of fate falling from the sky. She was just another doctor, he was just another doctor. And then they became friends. And she discovered that he was funny and caring and protective and so completely not-her-type that she was prepared to dismiss him forever. But the laughter and warm feeling that accompanied the tall, handsome, charming paeds doctor became more and more difficult to deny, until that day, the festival, when that paramedic Tamzin had asked her if he was single. And the surge of jealousy and possessiveness that surged through her, although it was easy to suppress, also frightened her. Because she didn't feel that way about him, did she? And when he said "never at work" did her heart really drop in teenage disappointment? It did and she knew it did, it would just take her a little longer to work out why.

"Never at work", that little known eleventh commandment, why did he say that? He had been trying to be funny, as always, the funny guy who befriends the beautiful girl and makes her laugh while she wonders what to do with her grumpy ex-husband. Her ex-husband who happens to be a friend and colleague. Just one look at her frowning at an X ray board, or arguing her case with a patient, or even just smiling was enough to make him consider breaking all the rules. But whose rules where they? And who was he to follow them?


	2. 2

"Do you fancy a drink?" The question alone was enough to make Sam's heart skip backwards a beat, not that that was anatomically possible, but it was the best way to describe what the action of her heart _felt_ like at that moment. And then there was his face, looking up from his phone with a expression of such indifference that she was almost tempted to say yes straight away. She sighed, determined to remain cool, "I thought you had a date tonight."

Tom smiled, "Well that's easily sorted." He had no question in his mind about who he would rather share a drink with. Even a single drink with Sam immediately eclipsed the prospect of spending a whole evening or even night with a otherwise nondescript girl. And then Sam nodded, with a slight shrug, "Okay."

Tom smiled again, unable to keep a grin from forming on his face. Sam, Samantha Nicholls with her hair pulled neatly into a bun and a dark grey hoodie falling slightly off either shoulder was going to go out for a drink with him. He asked for clarification, just to be sure, "So, a drink?" He walked towards to door, pleased to hear her follow.

Sam was finding it difficult to keep the excitement out of her voice. He asked her out for a drink. And cheekily cancelling his date with another girl to go out with her, something that should have made her turn around and say no, but she hadn't. And she wouldn't, she was actually looking forward to this. As friends of course, because a guy like him would never look at a girl like her for anything more than friendship. And he had said _never at work_. But she still followed him, "After the day I've had, I'm probably going to need more than one."

"Good. You can buy the first round."

Sam shook her head, but still smiling. Because he'd probably broken a few hearts with that smile and that charm but he was caring and sweet and funny and- she didn't need to look for any other reasons, she was already grabbing her bag.

.

And nearly a bottle of wine later, they were arguing about who deserved the last glass. Sam was all for fighting for it, rolling around on the floor with Tom had appeal in more ways than one and it would certainly be interesting to see his face when she came out on top. Because she would win, and she was sure of it. But that neither an appropriate or viable option, so she suggested rock paper scissors. He smiled, "Yeah all right, my game, you're on."

And she won the first game, her rock blunting his scissors, just like she knew she would. And just like she knew he would he insisted that they play best of three. She played scissors and he played rock, and just like a child he punched the air with his fist, "Yes! Even Stevens!"

And she giggled, surprising herself, "How old are you?"

"I can't even remember."

"Okay, this is it, tie breaker, I mean, you do realise I'm going to win, I always win-" They counted together, "I, 2, 3"

And they both did a rock, and he did some weird thing making his explode, insisting that a hammer breaks a rock. And she was ready to let him get away with it, because despite the playboy act, Sam was really beginning to like him. They were really drunk, and she was still holding his hand and suddenly Sam was acutely aware of how close his face was to hers. And then the distance between their lips closed and they were kissing. And it didn't matter who was having the last glass of wine, or who won rock paper scissors because they were leaving the pub. And they get to the taxi, and he opens the door for her. She knew he was a gentleman. And then once their inside he's playing with her hair and his lips find hers again...


End file.
